Happy Mother’s Day
To all our motherly readers, we love you and we’re grateful you’re in our lives. Thank you for all the things–big and small–that you do for us. And speaking of…whatever happened to having breakfast ready when I wake up in the morning? ‘Cause that was the shit. I mean, I only visit three or four times a year now, how hard is it to get up and cook me some pancakes?
No, no, really. Just kidding. Thank you, mothers, for always looking out for the best interests of your children. Like the way you’d flip on the porch light when I was trying to get my hand under your daughter’s sweater. My teenaged self didn’t like that very much, but it taught me how very important it was to take your daughter to that park with all the creepy guys standing in the bushes instead.
Ha! I’m just messing with you. Mothers can always be counted on to ride to the rescue when something has gone wrong. Mom, remember the time you came to school to bring me clean underwear in front of all my friends ’cause you realized I had no fresh laundry? It was last week. The Dean of Academics still laughs every time he sees me.
Okay, I guess the love we have for mothers has to be pretty damn secure. Like that nursing home on 12th Street.